What was I thinking with all that Kum By Ya - campfire - everyone is good and wonderful stuff? Fortunately, I've gotten over it... I'm enjoying the fact that the bathroom-deficient cat Sandy continues to clean me, and frankly, I like being pampered. In my previous work (taking over the world), I found myself struggling to move quickly enough to encourage the minions and give them strength. I've found the solution. The short two legged is all to willing to move me around. Unfortunately, I haven't found a way to convey to her where I need to go, but it's a start...

My chariot has been chosen. My dominance is at hand…

Lilo the Cat Reborn

Today started out a pretty good day... Granted, I informed the tall two-legged that I needed canned food this morning, and didn't get it, but after dealing with his ineptitude, I wandered around, played with my Christmas presents, and found a place to soak in the sun. I knew it wouldn't go anywhere, but I stood by the door a couple of times and politely asked to venture outside. You know, just to keep the requests going. I really didn't want to go outside because it was raining rats and dogs (my thing... who ever came up with raining 'cats and dogs'?).

I was periodically dozing on the bed, and pleased that Daddy wandered in to put Sandy on the bed. She's so lazy that she can't jump on the bed by herself (she claims she's too old), and she proceeded to clean me. I'd finally come to terms with the probability that I couldn't take over the world, and was fine with simply taking over the house. Today my world took a dismal turn.

I'd gotten used to having subtle things change in my life. I found a special place in the area that was under construction to stay warm and cozy. Daddy took it away just to make my live miserable. Something about me lying in insulation... I dealt with that in my typical better-than-that attitude, but the dog has started to annoy me. He has started to venture into the house during the evenings and nights. I thought it would go away fairly quickly because he stinks so bad. He is not really a problem, but he is so stupid I can't sway him to my goals. I walk by him, and swell to twice my size, which is quite impressive, but all he does is wag his tail (which is long as I am) and sniff my butt. Dogs are dumb, and he is the worst. I figured it was temporary until I heard some terrible noises while I lay on my bed (supposedly, Annie's bed... little does she know). Yells and threats were emanating from the bathroom. Could it be that StinkDog was having a real bath?

A half hour later, my worst fears were realized. Clean blankets on the floor welcomed the mutt out of the bathroom. On the off chance that this might become normal, I informed him about what was off limits: my toys, my room (previously known as Annie's room), the room under construction, the kitchen, the dining room... pretty much everything except the ten square feet allocated to him by the blankets. The moron just looked at me and wagged his tail. Just to vent my spite, I sniffed his butt. Two can play at this game.

I'm not sure how this will unfold. Given the difficulty I heard in the giving of the bath, I'm hoping that as soon as he starts stinking again, he'll be out the door. If not, I'll have to change my strategy. I hope he doesn't think he will get cleaning services from Sandy. She's already employed...




Lilo the Cat Tolerant

It's been so long since I tried to channel through the tall two-legged in attempt to change the world. I have to admit, I think I might be showing signs of age. I've spent so much time trying to take over the world. I'm starting to feel that simply controlling my local 'world' may be the best thing. Perhaps the world could be changed for the better simply by taking care of my own family.

As an example, during my workshops for the local deer titled, 'Antlers - not just for messing up trees', I came home to a new cat box. It was possessed. It looked familiar, though. I think I had something like it at my last domicile, where the decided they couldn't deal with my superior intellect. I got in and did my business. Ten minutes later, I was back in the room to get a drink, and the demon came to life. A huge metal thingy came down and scraped along the sand. A trapdoor opened, and scooped my 'business' into a bin. What if I'd been in there?!?! The two-leggeds never consider the consequences of their actions. Well, I had no choice, did I? I found a quiet corner in the 'master' bedroom (what a terrible misuse of title), and began to use it as a surrogate bathroom.

The tall two-legged was livid with rage. I've always thought he was a good person, and liked me, but with that outcry, he must have expected that I would have been stuffed into the bin of the demon catbox by then. Since Sandy goes to the bathroom anywhere she happens to be (she's so uncouth, but then she gets away with it, so maybe I'm wrong?)

The next thing I know, the tall two-legged (Daddy) has removed all the carpet from the room. Well, great. Now what should I do? I found his response to my going on the wood sub-floor completely out of line. I mean, what did he expect?

After this, I started to have a change of perspective. My plans for world domination weren't going well, and I was seeing a need to work my influence at home. The small two-legged (Annie) has stopped feeling like she has to carry me everywhere, which would be a nice thing if it were comfortable. Instead, she gently places me on blankets, and brings me treats. Forget my minions, there is a whole new life here to exploit. I started looking for areas where I could improve my life in the house. I've noticed that the Daddy makes a great bed. When he's in the bed, he crooks his legs, and the comforter falls in to make a perfect nest. Annie is very warm during the night, and if I can convince her to lie still, it's almost like a personal sauna. Even on the floor, Daddy crooks his legs, and I can crawl in for a nap (I take about fifty every day). I've noticed that he appreciates it by the comments that he makes after a half hour. Apparently his legs cramp, and start to tingle in a bad way. But? He still doesn't move them. Oh yeah, I'm in control here.

Annie brings me treats all the time. Granted, she gives them to Sandy, too, but Sandy is such a curmudgeon that soon after receiving a treat, she starts hissing her displeasure of having Annie touch her. Stupid cat. She gives the rest of us a bad name.

My control, and therefore my receipt of pampering has gone much further than I thought it could. I've learned certain skills and attributes of the two leggeds, especially Daddy. As the weather has gotten colder, he has stopped working from the deck, and now spends his days in the upstairs study. I'm not always sure where he is, but after a few calls I can hear his voice, 'Lilo, I'm up here...' Where ever he is, I proceed to his location, and he puts me in a place of honor. I'm currently lying on a bunch of data that is covered with plots of red, green, and black. I'm sure it's much more interesting with me (or at least my fur). He had the audacity earlier to push me off the data, and I settled on a stack of journals. I learned a lot by osmosis about Solid-State Circuits, Electromagnetic Compatibility, and Antennas and Propogation. Should I decide again to try to take over the world, I'm sure I'll make use of it.

In the meantime, I relinquish my desire to control the world. I've found myself feeling very protective about those under my care. Am I getting old? In their presence, I feel calmer. When they are happy, I am happy. When they are upset, I look for remedies to support. I don't know. Maybe I'm a changed conquerer. Maybe I've just found the happiness that comes from realizing not only the joy, but the responsibility that comes from being loved...



Lilo the Cat Protector

I had an adventure not long ago that, well, could have been planned a little better. Through a frightening twist of fate, there were three of the short two-leggeds here over the weekend in question. In some ways, it was good for me. They generally entertained themselves without my involvement, and I was able to escape being passed from one to the other. However (shudder) there were times where I became the center of attention. Apparently, I needed to be carried, needed to be removed from my place in the window, needed to be pulled out of my basket, needed to be tugged in all directions.

Well as the day progressed, I realized that now there were more people going in and out of the house. The tall two-legged left the front door open due to the heat. Off-topic: this seemed really stupid, since the open door allowed the outside heat inside - what a moron. Well, with the door open, only the screen door stood between me and the freedom to deliver messages to my massing army outside (I think I'm making progress with the deer). The door has a crude pneumatic door-closer that pauses before shutting to eliminate possible slams (I can't believe that the two-leggeds don't know about the precision of quantum-pressure closers). With so many two-leggeds going in and out, the screen door was staying open more often than usual. I stealthily stalked my way into the entryway, and found a place to hide behind the firewood left over from winter.

I watched the door for several openings. I had the timing down. It opened and someone came in the house. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... I bolted. My tail just cleared the door before it made the final 'click'. I was free! I cruised the deck with no interference (for once). No one was picking me up and carrying me where they wanted me to go, and I could chew on grass to my heart's content. I dispatched messengers, and had conversations with members of the local fauna. I confess that I was a little drunk on power, and felt very smug at my ingenuity for escaping the confines of the house.

Then I noticed something. It had gotten dark. I heard the familiar noises in the house of the two-leggeds preparing for bed. I hadn't thought far enough ahead to determine how I would get back into the house. I had assumed I would enter as I left when someone came out, but they didn't appear to be coming out anymore. Probably the result of the pesky buzzing insects flying around everywhere. The dog walked by, and I swear he snickered and faked a cough while saying "LOSER". I tried to ask for assistance, but over the ceiling fans, the small two-leggeds talking and giggling, and the tall two-legged yelling "GO TO SLEEP", no one heard me.

I remembered a time last winter when I escaped through a hole in the bathroom that was being remodeled and spent some time under the house. I made my way back there, and spent the night. It was actually quite fun, but I missed being able to tease Sandy in the middle of the night. Morning came, and I yawned, stretched, and went to the opening to watch the sunrise. Yeah, it really is nicer to see in Annie's window. I thought I heard something: the familiar tapping of keys on the deck. The tall two-legged was out with his typing-thingy and drinking that vile coffee. I looked around at the terrible obstacles I had bravely traversed the night before. There were tall plants with stickers on them, and I didn't relish the thought of walking through them again. I decided to start telling "Daddy" what I had been through to get him to elicite enough sympathy for him to come get me.

It never ceases to amaze me that I can understand the two-leggeds, and they can't understand me. I confess that "Daddy" understands me better than most, but he seemed to think I was talking to him through Annie's window. He talked to me without looking for me. Finally, after about 15 minutes of trying to communicate, he walked to the edge of the deck for some reason. I was yelling "look down!", and he finally did. He tried to coaxe me into walking around the bad plants to him. Moron. I would have done that if I wanted to. He realized I wasn't going to move, and came down to get me. It was then that I got nervous. In order to get around the plants, he had to walk on a slippery and steep slope. Of course, if he had a tail, and walked on four legs, it would have been no big deal. He almost fell a couple of times, and I started to wonder if he would be able to carry me back. I decided to venture into the bad plants. I was only a couple of feet in, though, when he made it to me. He picked me up, and fortunately was able to carry me back into the house without falling.

I cleaned myself up a bit (Sandy's always complaining about my being dirty - wish I could get her to clean my butt), and promptly went to sleep. It was a real adventure.




Lilo the Cat Brave

Woe is me. My control of the two-leggeds has sunk even further. Yesterday, the tall one was cleaning house. He moved everything out of the dining room, and swept/cleaned the entire floor. I couldn't believe it. All my strategically placed fur piles were unceremoniously removed. It will take me weeks to replace them. The tall two-legged was oblivious to the fact that they represented the strategic locations of various armies under my command, intent on world domination.

This had the unfortunate result of bringing to my attention that my massing of armies has gone very poorly. I have tried to bring under my sway a variety of creatures, none of which were intelligent enough to recognize the opportunities available. I tried to convince the deer that they should join with me. I even played like I was frightened of them (as if) to lull them into a false sense of superiority. No luck.

Some of the neighbor cats have ventured over, and I've tried to sway them as well. They are too content with chasing lizards, and don't see the bigger picture. They don't seem to see the reward of having two-leggeds bring them food in a can on a regular basis as anything to aspire to. Ignorant hillbilly cats.

I'm almost ashamed to admit that I stumbled across an unlikely ally, and couldn't seem to communicate with him... her... it, whatever. While the tall two-legged was using his porcelain catbox, I observed a long yellow creature slowly moving across the floor. I surmise it thought that moving slowly would keep it from detection, but that bright yellow really gave it away. I tried to talk to the creature, but all I could get from it was that it was a banana slug. Fine, all creatures are equally welcome under my tyrannical rule. In an attempt to gain its focus for a deeper conversation, I walked around it, and pawed at it at times to determine where its eyes were to better focus my intent. I couldn't find any eyes, but some long antennae kept sucking back into its body whenever I pawed at it. I was getting frustrated with its lack of interest, so I decided to bite it a little. Well, it just went downhill from there. For some reason, my whole mouth went numb, and I couldn't talk anymore. I may try to communicate with them again, though. That numbing ability would be very useful in my army.

Alas, I worry that this is not the best time for my minions to gather. I'm thinking of hiring myself out as a strategic consultant for a while. The time will come in the not too distant future when all the stars will align in my favor, and the world will be mine. Oh, geez, there's that dog again. Little does he know that I've design a saddle for him, and he will be my steed as my army marches to victory. I hope he knows how to gait properly...




Lilo the Cat Mercenary

Things had been going quite well... until recently. I've managed to push the small two-legged to take me outside whenever I want. The deck is not my domain. Despite what you might have read, I wasn't frightened by the deer. I just needed higher ground to exert my influence, and couldn't get it on the deck...

The bad news comes from my bathroom. I think I've been kind letting the two-leggeds use my bathroom, but my toilet, or "catbox" as they call it, has recently changed. It is a demonic incarnation of my safe and useful toilet. There is a large stainless-steel rake that comes out to try to scrape me into a small reservoir. I've watched this beast do it's dirty work, and will not be cornered. I've used it a few times, to demonstrate my power and lack of fear, but I'm not opposed to using the carpet in times when I know the Box is waiting to attack. What are they going to do? Kick me out? I've learned from Sandy that if you are kind to the two-leggeds, you can go wherever you want. As it turns out? This house is quite large. There are so many places to go, they can't possibly find them all... Of course, I'm working on a plan to beat the crap (pardon the pun) out of the demon box. There is no way that it is going to best me.

In the meantime, I'll just continue to purr and rub at the appropriate times. I'm looking forward to venturing into the yard to extend my domain...


Lilo the Cat Not-Constipated

The two-leggeds have gained strength, and Sandy no longer fears my wrath or power. My Jedi powers are failing.

First case in point: some of the canned food I get in the morning is absolutely unpalatable. Who puts chicken, beef, or turkey on the table? I like fish, don't you get it? Granted, the beef stuff hasn't been served in a while, but what's with this recent chicken and turkey thing? I've resigned myself to just let Sandy eat it, telling her she owes me.

Another case? Sandy has learned the joys of elevated sprawling locations. Strangely, she has adopted my old spot at the dining room window. Fine, I didn't like it anymore, anyway. It kept falling down on me when the small two-legged would lean against it. It had to be her, it couldn't be that I'm a bit heavy. And, it's not completely level. Please, I don't need my throne to be off by half-a-bubble.

Further? I thought I'd expanded my realm to the deck. However, when I tell the two-leggeds that I desire to go outside, they ignore me. I've tried being very direct, in fact, at first I just walked outside, but was stopped at the threshold of freedom. How big are those feet? That can't be natural, even for a human. Nevertheless, I've been promised by the small one that I will go out tomorrow to survey my corrupt empire.

Lastly? My rule depends on my travelling the "higher road". This often requires me to walk, sit, scratch, and clean on the dining room table and the kitchen counter. The rebels have adopted a vile weapon: a squirt bottle. The first attack happened while I was demanding (as is my right as emperor) my morning sustenance. I strolled across the dining room table explaining my needs and complaining about the poor service (you just can't good help from the two-leggeds). Next thing I know, the Tall One pulls a blue bottle off of the refrigerator and points it at me. A long spray of water came out and hit me. IT HIT ME! Oh, I'm going to leave a present in his shoes... if he ever wears any, blasted redneck. I leaped from the table shouting Et Tu, David?

I've not given up, though. I'm considering making an agreement with the rats, mice, and ants to aid my claim to authority. They seem to be a major thorn in the tall two-legged's control factor, and might serve me well. We shall see...

Lilo the Cat Usurped

I've put the cart before the horse. My control is slipping. I've made some progress with Sandy, though. My insidious encouragement has allowed her to venture beyond the level of the floor. She has begun to venture to higher levels. She climbs on just about anything, as long as it is low enough to get her prodigious gut over. She has made progress, and has become one of my minions, granted she is unaware of how she fits into my picture of control. She serves her purpose well, though, having gained the confidence of the short two-legged, Annie. Her assistance as I take control is invaluable.

My cart-before-the-horse thing comes from a new discovery. I have found that my current diet and a monitoring of water intake has made my cat-box use very formidable. Unfortunately, the stench of my deposits leaves something on my tail end. I shouldn't have come to this point before completely taking Sandy as a servant. She's older than I, and is very independent. Well, ces't la vie. I have no desire to clean this off my derriere. So, I walk around the house, and depost it where I need to. Soon, I hope to take over Sandy to the point where she will clean my rear herself. She craps all over the place, so she must have a skill for cleaning.

I'm increasingly intrigued by the skills of the two-leggeds. They have a control over a dangerous tool: fire.

It smells really nice. Maybe it’s strong enough to counter my stench, but I doubt it.

I continue exerting my control…

Lilo the Cat Conquerer

I have successfully exerted my formidable mind control over the tall two-legged (aka Daddy). Employing the Jedi Mind Trick, I forced him to take me outside. I explored the deck, taking in the trees, the leaves, the branches sprawled around just for my pleasure. It was amazing. My control slipped at one point when I made a move to go under the deck, and was deterred. The force is strong in this one. So I had to be content to explore the deck and make it my own. At one point, the deceptively brain-challenged family dog came to inquire if there was anything I wanted him to do. My arched back and splayed tail told him no, and faced with such an intimidating display, he was so scared that he went over and vomited up some grass he had eaten. That'll teach him. I say he is deceptively brain-challenged, because he is the protector of my home. After scaring him with my obviously superior intimidation skills, he went to the driveway, went into a reclining position, and feigned the appearance of a lazy, sleeping dog. Wow. He is really smart. God help the poor unsuspecting visitor...

The deck has some wonderful toys, including some plants that I could play with, chew on, and otherwise destroy.

One thing in particular that I noticed, is that apparently one can use the restroom anywhere one wants to outside. The genius of a dog Tolkien left evidence everywhere. Maybe this is where Sandy the Cat Bear gets the idea that the house is one giant catbox.

Well, the exertion required to maintain mental control of Daddy has worn me out. He awoke from a stupor, and put me back in the house. Next time, I’m going for the fruit trees…

Lilo the Cat Adventurer

I have recently come to the conclusion that I am the Buddha reincarnated in cat form. The two-leggeds who subscribe to Buddhism believe that the Buddha is in us all, but for cats? It's just me. So, in an effort to reach all cats I'm channeling the following thoughts of wisdom...

The squeaky wheel may get the grease, but would good is that? The balling cat gets whatever it wants.

The world is big and beautiful, but when your feet get wet, go back inside.

Alarm clocks have snooze buttons, cats don't. Use it.

A captive audience is much more susceptible to listening to your desires and ultimately appeasing them. There is no audience more captive than the one that is on the toilet.

You can break, chase, destroy or deficate on anything as long as you can give a cute face, snuggle, and purr.

Follow up: depending on the item broken, chased, destroyed, or deficated on, you may have to increase the quantiities of cuteness, snuggling, and purring to continue getting your way.

Beware of the two-legged children: prolonged exposure may rid you of use of your legs, as they believe you must be carried everywhere.... even to the catbox.

Bugs are great toys. You can chase them, play with them, and even eat them. Then you throw them up, and they look the same.

Cat boxes are a poor substitute for the outdoors. If you must use one, be sure to fling the occasional litter and fecal matter outside the box to keep the two-leggeds aware of who's boss.

Embrace your big cat essence. We were meant to be in trees and up high. Despite their attempts, the two leggeds can really not keep you off of tables, counters, sinks, windows... whatever...

Enjoy a friendship with dogs. A few smacks on the snout makes them your slave for life. This can be very handy when you want to know what good stuff is in the trash.

If you get fleas, resist the urge to scratch. This will keep you from the horrific experience of a bath.

There are two leggeds that are afflicted with a terrible, terrible disease. When in proximity to you they begin to itch and sneeze. Follow them around and feign an interest to be cuddled. It's a lot of fun.

This is my wisdom for now. Keep these points in mind, and you will have complete control over your two-legged pets. And remember, they aren't very smart, so be patient with them.

Lilo the Cat Buddha