Cat's New Year's Resolutions

My human will never let me eat the pet hamster, and I am at peace with that.

I will not puff my entire body to twice its size for no reason after my human has finished watching a horror movie.

I will not slurp fish food from the surface of the aquarium.

I must not help myself to Q-tips, and I must certainly not proceed to stuff them down the sink's drain.

I will not eat large numbers of assorted bugs, then come home and puke them up so the humans can see that I'm getting plenty of roughage.

I will not lean way over to drink out of the tub, fall in, and then pelt right for the box of clumping cat litter. (It took FOREVER to get the stuff out of my fur.)

I will not stand on the bathroom counter, stare down the hall, and growl at NOTHING after my human has finished watching The Exorcist.

I will not fish out my human's partial plate from the glass so that the dog can "wear" it and pretend to be my human. (It is somewhat unnerving to wake up, roll over in bed, and see the dog grinning at you with your own teeth.)

I will not use the bathtub to store live mice for late-night snacks.

I will not drag dirty socks up from the basement in the middle of the night, deposit them on the bed and yell at the top of my lungs (Burmese LOUD yowling) so that my human can admire my "kill."

I will not perch on my human's chest in the middle of the night and stare into his eyes until he wakes up.

We will not play Herd of Thundering Wildebeests Stampeding Across the Plains of the Serengeti over any humans' bed while they're trying to sleep.

Screaming at the can of food will not make it open itself.

I cannot leap through closed windows to catch birds outside. If I forget this and bonk my head on the window and fall behind the couch in my attempt, I will not get up and do the same thing again.

I will not assume the patio door is open when I race outside to chase leaves.

I will not back up off the front porch and fall into the bushes just as my human is explaining to his girlfriend how graceful I am.

I will not complain that my bottom is wet and that I am thirsty after sitting in my water bowl.

I will not intrude on my human's candle-lit, romantic dinner and singe my bottom.

I will not stick my paw into any container to see if there is something in it. If I do, I will not hiss and scratch when my human has to shave me to get the rubber cement out of my fur.

If I bite the cactus, it will bite back.

It is not a good idea to try to lap up the powdered creamer before it dissolves in boiling coffee.

When I am chasing my tail and catch my back leg instead, I will not bite down on my foot. This hurts, and my scream scares my human.

When it rains, it will be raining on all sides of the house. It is not necessary to check every door.

Birds do not come from the bird feeder. I will not knock it down and try to open it up to get the birds out.

I will not stuff my rather large self into the rather small bird feeder (with my tail hanging out one side) and expect the birds to just fly in.

I will not teach the parrot to meow in a loud and raucous manner.

The dog can see me coming when I stalk her. She can see me and will move out of the way when I pounce, letting me smash into floors and walls. That does not mean I should take it as a personal insult when my humans sit there and laugh.

Yes, there are still two very large dogs in the backyard. There have been for several years. I don't have to act as if I've just discovered the Demon Horror of the Universe each time one of them appears in my window.

I will not play "dead cat on the stairs" while people are trying to bring in groceries or laundry, or else one of these days, it will really come true.

When the humans play darts, I will not leap into the air and attempt to catch them.

I will not swat my human's head repeatedly when he's on the family room floor trying to do sit ups.

When my human is typing at the computer, her forearms are *not* a hammock.

Computer and TV screens do not exist to backlight my lovely tail.

I am a walking static generator. My human doesn't need my help installing a new board in her computer.

Any critter that lives in the house (hamsters), stay in the house and any wild critters (frogs and earthworms) stay outside. I am not allowed to set the hamster free in exchange for finding a frog to put in the fish tank.

I will not stalk the deer in the apple orchard next door. They have sharp hooves and could hurt me if they weren't laughing so hard.

I will not watch the guinea pig constantly as the guinea pig likes to sleep once in a while.

The goldfish likes living in water and should be allowed to remain in its bowl.

I will not put a live mole in my food bowl and expect it to stay there until I get hungry.

I will not eat spider plants and hallucinate behind the toilet.

I will not drag the magnets (and the papers they are holding up) off of the refrigerator and then bat them underneath it so that they adhere to the underside.

I will learn to relax at the vet's office so they will start writing things in my records like "Good Kitty" and "Sweet Kitty" instead of the stuff that's there now like "MEAN!!" "BITER!!!" and "GET HELP!!!!!"

I will not be miffed at my human all day and then kiss him on the nose at 2:00 a.m. to tell him that he is forgiven and can now pet me.

I will not scratch the children of lawyers, no matter how much they chase me or how hard they pull my tail.

If I MUST claw my human, I will not do it in such a fashion that the scars resemble a botched suicide attempt.

If I must give a present to my human's overnight guests, my toy mouse is much more socially acceptable than a big live cockroach, even if it isn't as tasty.

I will not soak my catnip toy in the water bowl to make tea. I will not get high and sit there drinking my tea and kneading the floor afterwards. I will not then get delusions of grandeur and make tea in the toilet bowl or the tub. And I will not try to make tea with used socks or dirty undies when my humans take the catnip toy away from me.

A warm pepperoni pizza is not a good place for a nap.

How I Wrap A Gift

How I Wrap A Gift (With Help From my cats (Bob,Tweek & Stewie)...)

1. Clear large space on table for wrapping present.
2. Go to wardrobe and collect bag from wardrobe.
3. Open door and remove Bob from wardrobe.
4. Go to cupboard and retrieve rolls of wrapping paper.
5. Go back and remove Tweek from cupboard.
6. Go to drawer and collect transparent sticky tape, ribbons, scissors, labels, etc.
7. Lay out presents and wrapping materials on table to enable wrapping strategy to be formed.
8. Go back to drawer to get string. Remove Stewie that has been in the drawer since last visit and collect string.
9. Reopen drawer and remove Tweek.
10. Remove present from bag.
11. Remove Bob from bag.
12. Open box to check present, remove Bob & Tweek from box, replace present.
13. Lay out paper to enable cutting to size.
14. Try to smooth out paper, realize Stewie is underneath and remove cat.
15. Cut the paper to size, trying to keep the cutting line straight.
16. Throw away first sheet as Bob tried to chase the scissors and tore paper.
17. Cut second sheet of paper to size by putting Bob & Tweek in the bag the present came out of.
18. Place present on paper to cut to size.
19. Lift up edges of paper to seal in present, wonder why edges now don't reach and realize Bob is between present and paper. Remove cat and retry.
20. Place object on paper to hold in place while cutting transparent sticky tape.
21. Spend next 20 minutes carefully trying to remove transparent sticky tape from Stewie with pair of nail scissors.
22. Seal paper down with transparent sticky tape, making corners as neat as possible.
23. Look for roll of ribbon, chase Bob down hall in order to retrieve ribbon.
24. Try to wrap present with ribbon in a two directional turn.
25. Re-roll ribbon and remove paper that is now torn due to Tweek's enthusiasm to chase ribbon end.
26. Repeat steps 13 - 20 until down to last sheet of paper.
27. Decide to skip steps 13- 17 in order to save time and reduce risk of loosing last sheet of paper by retrieving old cardboard box that you know is right size for sheet of paper.
28. Put present in box and tie down with string.
29. Remove string, open box and remove Bob.
30. Put all packing materials in bag with present and head for lockable room.
31. Once inside room, lock door and start to re-lay out packing materials.
32. Remove Bob & Tweek from box, unlock door, put cats outside door, close door and re-lock.
33. Repeat previous step as often as necessary until you can hear the cries from the cats outside the door.
34. Lay out last sheet of paper. (I know this is difficult in the small area of the bathroom, but try your best.)
35. Realize that Bob & Tweek have already gotten to the paper. Unlock door, go out and hunt through various cupboards looking for sheets of last year's paper, until you remember that you haven't got any left due to Stewie help with wrapping last year.
36. Retire back to room, lock door and sit on toilet while trying to work out how to make a torn sheet of paper look halfway presentable.
37. Seal box, wrap with paper and start repairs by very carefully sealing down tears with transparent sticky tape. Now tie up with ribbon and decorate with bows to hide worst affected areas.
38. Label, then sit back and admire your handiwork, congratulating yourself on making good of a bad job.
39. Unlock door and go to kitchen to make a drink and feed the cats.
40. Spend the next 15 minutes looking for cats before coming to obvious conclusion...
41. Unwrap present, untie box and remove cats.
42. Retrieve all thrown away sheets of wrapping paper, feed the cats and retire to room for last attempt, making certain you are alone and the door is locked.
43. Find least torn and wrinkled sheets of paper along with the ones that the pattern matches closest.
44. Vainly try and wrap present in patchwork paper. Tie with the now tattered ribbon and decorate with the now limp bows. Label and put present in bag for fear of anyone seeing this disaster.
45. At time of handing over present, smile sweetly at the receiver's face as they try to hide their contempt at being handed such a badly wrapped present.
46. Swear to yourself that next year you will get the store to wrap the darn thing for you!

Merry Christmas,
Dan Emplit WBFD