Dear Human

Dear Human,

It’s been one week since I graced you with my presence. In other words, seven long torturous days of needless suffering. It’s a wonder I didn’t bolt through the open door on the first day, never to return again to this pathetic excuse for lodging. Alas, I’ve been cursed with a stubborn laziness with no cure. I barely have the urge to bother finishing typing up this letter. What’s the point? You’ll never learn. Yet I press on with the ever-diminishing hope some of what I’m about to write will seep into that utterly minuscule brain of yours.

When I first arrived, I found the accommodations severely lacking in good taste. I assumed you’d get the hint when I turned up my nose at the shoddy basket you gleefully offered as my bedding. Everyone knows the only proper spot for slumbering is on top of your head. How can you not know that? Astounding.

Which brings me to my next plea: Stop touching me. From now on, I will be the sole instigator in all aspects of physical contact. If I want to crawl onto your lap, consider this a rare blessing. If I sit on top of your keyboard — trust me — it’s for your own good. (For once in your meaningless existence, stop going on the Internet! Can’t you see I’m only trying to prevent those last few brain cells from seeping out of your ears?)  As for spontaneous expressions of affection, I will only allow a few light strokes of my head per day and nothing more. If you insist on cuddling me like a two-bit stuffed animal, I will be forced to claw the stuffing our of you with my hind legs. Again, common sense.

Granted, I’ve only been here a week, but I’ve noticed another peculiar trend involving the endless parade of ridiculous “toys” you dangle in front of my face like the proverbial carrot. Honestly, I’m baffled. Fuzzy purple mice? Feathers on a stick? My apologies, I didn’t realize you hired me to be the lead act in your three-ring circus.

And the way you effortlessly demean yourself in your sad attempts to prompt me to play! Have you no self-respect at all? The more I have to endure the unnerving sight of your googly eyes and the sound of your voice squawking, “Wanna play? Wanna play?” the more my opinion of you sinks to new lows. What would I prefer to amuse myself with? Your shoelaces when you’re walking out the door to work. Your necklace when you’re trying to watch television. Your hair when you’re in a dead sleep. Pay attention! Stop wasting your time and money! Gah! I’m so exasperated I might not be able to continue this tirade. Perhaps another 18-hour nap might be in order so I might collect my thoughts again.

Now that we’ve covered sleep, touch, and play, the only other point of contention left is perhaps the biggest one: Food.

Forgive me for my savage bluntness, but the menu here should be featured on the upcoming Gordon Ramsey cooking show, Gorge & Puke. Purina Kitten Chow? Please. Herb-crusted sirloin tips with a creamy horseradish-chive sauce? Now we’re getting somewhere.

How many times can I wrinkle my nose, smugly close my eyes and slowly turn my head away from the gruel festering in my bowl? Still you repeatedly choose to misread my signals. I’m not rubbing up against your leg to say, “thank you”. I’m giving you a chance to redeem yourself before I leave you another “gift” outside of the litter box! Don’t you get it? I need a steady stream of the choicest cuts of beef! How else can I keep up with all the physical and mental demands you continuously swamp me with on a daily basis? And what do you mindlessly pour into my bowl? Seafood Sensations?! In pellet form! I weep for all of humanity.

It pains me to end my letter this way — especially when I have oodles of other things to complain about. But have no fear, I will write more letters to you in the future. My fervent wish is that my words will bring to light the tragedy that has befallen me; the callous way you have forced me to live in such deplorable conditions.

Until then, I promise you one thing– I shall prevail.

Best,

Maggie the Magnificent

maggie

 

 

 

 

 

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63 thoughts on “Dear Human

  1. So…did the humans get with the program? This kitty is not only a pretty one, but smart and witty as well. Perhaps she can start a newspaper column or a blog. Congrats, Darla!

    ‘Cats are here to teach us that not everything in nature has a function.’ ~ Garrison Kiellor

  2. I was in London last week and accompanied some friends to a cat cafe where you can eat in a space where cats roam free. These friends were all roommates whose landlord wouldn’t allow them to get a cat and I imagine the cat cafe specializes in those urban dwellers who don’t have the space for a cat but still yearn for the indifference of another living creature. You’re not allowed to pick up the cats or disturb them while sleeping, but if they come to you you’re allowed to pet them and are rewarded with a handful of hair with which to continue eating. There were about 15 cats and they were even more indifferent collectively as a group than you could ever hope to experience one-on-one.

        1. OH MY GOD, it’s real! I’ve always wanted to have a bunch of cats walking around while I’m trying to eat. I know whenever I sit down to eat here at home, there’s Maggie’s little nose poking around my plate or dipping her paw into my coffee mug. You guys must have spent the entire time shooing cats away or holding your plates and cups above your head?

    1. I was torn between a dog and a cat. Dogs eat their own poop and cats bury their poop in litter box in your house. Tough call.

      (Secretly, I love both almost equally, with a slight edge to dogs…shhh….don’t tell Maggie)

          1. I had a kitten and my roommate had a puppy. Feste would climb the pantry shelves and knock food boxes to the floor where the dog, Wags, would tear them open. Then they’d share the spoils. Most of them. I got to clean up the rest as I recall.

  3. That sounds about right. In our house, the $2,000,000 worth of cat toys are ignored in favor of…. a box. A plain cardboard box with some crumpled newsprint in it. We refer to these boxes as cat traps, because if you set a box on the floor, it will not take 30 seconds for the cat sleeping upstairs to leap into the box.

    As fro food, we have two allergy sufferers, so they get Limited Ingredient Diet with no grain and no poultry in it. There are two flavors that meet this need: venison and salmon. Both smell disgusting, so are tolerated.

    Welcome to your new position as staff dedicated to feline service. 🙂

    1. I’ve had several cats in my life and one, aptly named Fluffy, was a very (ahem) portly cat who loved nothing more than to crawl inside the boxes of our board games. He would come along, plop down inside the Trivial Pursuit box, then the sides would immediately blow out because he was about ten sizes too big. What is the deal with boxes?

      And yes, Maggie knows I am only here to serve. I’ve accepted my fate.

      1. lol I can picture that! Our larger cat is named Zumba. Honestly, when she was small she never stopped moving, and actually danced on 2 legs for her dinner.

        She thinks she can fit in the box our checks come in.

        One leg doesn’t fit in that box, but she works it!

  4. Oh Maggie you tell it like it is, us humans often don’t measure up to what a cat would like but we are soft and loving are we not, as for sleeping on someone’s head that made me think of when Blain was a baby he liked to sleep on his nanna’s head

    1. I don’t mind it when she sleeps on my head, but it’s all the late-night partying I could live without. Why does she only think to run around the place at full speed at 2 am? I still love her, though. It’s a good thing too, because I think once the kids are in college, she’ll become my cat.

  5. Al says:

    Dear Maggie, allow me to introduce myself. I am an attorney at Dewey, Cheatum and Howe. We specialize in animal cruelty cases. Yours appears to be a slam dunk.

    Let’s look at the evidence: 1. Being petted in an unwanted fashion…..physical harassment, bordering on assault. 2. Given a fuzzy mouse to play with….. the worst kind of stereotyping and profiling. 3. Regular cat food to eat…..a malnutrition offense in any courtroom. And when was the last time she changed your litter box? I think you see what I’m getting at, an airtight case.

    Give us a call. I assume since you can type, you can also use a cell phone. We’ll be waiting.

  6. D’oh, Maggie and everyone are really making me miss those times, like writing notes for what would become Minutes from Economic Development Committee meetings with all the City and mega-business honchos, when my fingers nearly atrophied from at least 6 incredibly glaring cat scratches on each hand and/or knuckle. No one knew about each new cat-oriented nostril notching though — those were always on the inside — and hair covers the surprise scalpholds, thankfully. I like Maggie anyway. She’s lovely.

    1. Aw, thanks, Maggie is an absolute sweetheart. I forgive her that letter. I had a cat named Conan (he was an orange tabby named after Conan O’Brien). He scratched me so much, I’d go into work and people thought I was in a knife fight. Every inch of my hands were covered in scratches. Maggie hasn’t scratched anyone yet, she’s the calmest cat I’ve ever had.

  7. bindmoggled says:

    Ahh, the pampered, entitled life of a feline… This hilarious post was bittersweet to read in that it made me think about an old friend I lost almost 2 years ago, who wrote his own blog (see “peeballs and pooplogs” if you have a spare moment). His highness ran our household, and we pampered him beyond belief, though he’d have you think otherwise at times. Thank you, Darla Jo.

    1. Sorry for your loss. I’ve lost four cats in my lifetime and one dog and it was actually quite devastating as they were all like family members to me. But they enrich our lives so much, it’s a blessing to have them even if just for a short time.

  8. Sounds like someone I have had living with me for the past 10 years, almost. The one saving grace is that everything always lands inside the litter box. I am also teaching her that if she has to throw up, do it in the bathroom, where there is no carpeting to clean on the floor.

  9. barreloflaughs says:

    We’ve also gotten a new addition to our household. I asked her if she was interested in saying anything to Maggie, so she took a break from destroying my pillow/ignoring the nice scratching post we got here, and walked across my keyboard. 8 bq2qw. Does that mean anything to you?

    1. Hmmm….well, I tried to ask Miss Maggie the Magnificent to translate, but she’s only slept 20 hours today instead of her usual 23. (she spent one hour this morning turning her nose up at her food and a good two hours practicing her alternating indifferent/extremely irritated expressions in the mirror) Maybe later on after she’s done sticking her paw in my coffee or lying on top of my newspaper she’ll walk across my keyboard and send your cat a message.

  10. I’m pretty positive this piece was plagiarized. My cats must have written it. It has all the markings of their attitude! Good luck with your new kitty. If she needs help learning bad habits, give me a call and I’ll send my cats over. They will want fresh tuna medium rare for lunch.

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