Dear Cat:
I realize I have moved into your house, but as I have both opposable thumbs and the ability to pay the bills, we are going to have to learn to share our space. This will involve several rules.
First, we are not nocturnal. The hallway does not magically turn into Kitty Int'l Raceway between 23'00 and 3'00. Breakfast is not served when racing concludes. Ideally, it needs to wait until the sun rises. Also, you are a cat; this means you eat your food and I will eat mine. Yoghurt does not, generally, contain dangerous additives and I don't need you checking it for quality. Same applies to things I am drinking. My coffee milk? Probably safe for human consumption.
Second, stop acting like I am electrocuting you whenever I touch you before returning and sucking up to me to rub your belly. It is also not necessary to act like I am going to eat your soul or grind you into sausage because I happen to be on the same floor as you.
Half eaten grapes do not become toys nor do they belong in your litter box. Either finish it or let me throw it away.
I am toilet trained. There's no need for you to spread little all over the floor "just in case".
The internet is not for you. My mouse is not edible and again, since you lack thumbs, you are not capable of typing. My friends don't care what you have to say. Hiding your head behind the screen does NOT make you invisible. Stop acting shocked when I bodily remove you from my computer. You're not fooling me.
But most importantly, Cat, stop nomming on my toes when I am sitting on the couch. They are not delicious and I don't like it. Licking my ankles is not okay either. You are not entitled to be offended when I move or you get kicked because you bit down and I didn't know you were there. Living with you is like living with a slightly dim, furry zombie.
I realize I have moved into your house, but as I have both opposable thumbs and the ability to pay the bills, we are going to have to learn to share our space. This will involve several rules.
First, we are not nocturnal. The hallway does not magically turn into Kitty Int'l Raceway between 23'00 and 3'00. Breakfast is not served when racing concludes. Ideally, it needs to wait until the sun rises. Also, you are a cat; this means you eat your food and I will eat mine. Yoghurt does not, generally, contain dangerous additives and I don't need you checking it for quality. Same applies to things I am drinking. My coffee milk? Probably safe for human consumption.
Second, stop acting like I am electrocuting you whenever I touch you before returning and sucking up to me to rub your belly. It is also not necessary to act like I am going to eat your soul or grind you into sausage because I happen to be on the same floor as you.
Half eaten grapes do not become toys nor do they belong in your litter box. Either finish it or let me throw it away.
I am toilet trained. There's no need for you to spread little all over the floor "just in case".
The internet is not for you. My mouse is not edible and again, since you lack thumbs, you are not capable of typing. My friends don't care what you have to say. Hiding your head behind the screen does NOT make you invisible. Stop acting shocked when I bodily remove you from my computer. You're not fooling me.
But most importantly, Cat, stop nomming on my toes when I am sitting on the couch. They are not delicious and I don't like it. Licking my ankles is not okay either. You are not entitled to be offended when I move or you get kicked because you bit down and I didn't know you were there. Living with you is like living with a slightly dim, furry zombie.