Another reason why Babylove rocks

http://www.petcentric.com/doggiemail/?id=25461827

A Letter to My Cats ...

Dear Cats,

I would like to thank you for all the years of comfort and companionship you have provided. You are all unique and very special, and I love each and every one of you. However, there are some issues I would like to address.

It is not necessary to do that as soon as I clean out the litter box. You have the other 23 hours and 50 minutes a day. And why, pray tell, must you do it both in the mornings after cleaning, and in the evenings after cleaning? If it were the same cat every time, I would just change cleaning times so as not to interfere with their regularity. Taking turns is not funny.

I do not need your help in the bathroom. I have been going by myself for many years now, and the world will not end if you are not in the bathroom with me. Just because I'm sitting down does not make it an appropriate time for you to jump in my lap. Demanding pets, rubbing on my legs, and playing with my shoelaces is also unacceptable bathroom behavior. And there is to be absolutely no more climbing into my pants! I don't want to see your kitty nose sticking up from inside my pant leg either!

While I appreciate you want to be near me, you have the whole damn house to sleep in, why do you have to sleep on my head? I can not breathe if your flab skirt is up my nose.

That is the same dog we have always had. He makes the same noise every night when he lays down. His huge sigh is not cause for alarm or a sign he's going to attack you. There is absolutely no need for you to dig claws into my scalp, puff up like a cotton ball, hiss, and use my face as a launching pad.

I don't expect you to catch, kill and eat bugs. However, what you do to a cricket is a violation of the Geneva Convention, not to mention disgusting. Stop it. Kill it or don't, but stop torturing it.

Thank you for the gift. However, I have a job and am able to buy food of my own. I appreciate the thought, but really ... you can have it.

It is not okay to use flatulence as jet propulsion to ease your leap onto the sofa.

I know exactly where your food bowls are, where the cat food is, and what time you should be fed. There is no need to run before me, constantly looking back over your shoulder and meowing piteously every time I walk by you. You'll be fed when it's time, and not a minute sooner. The bowl is not empty just because you can now almost see the bottom.

Stop staring at nothing on the walls and ceilings for hours at a time. It's creepy.

Of course you startle me when I wake up in the middle of the night and you are sitting inches from my face, staring wide-eyed at me. There's no need to look so put out when I shriek and jerk the covers up.

I appreciate the notice every time you see another cat, a bird, a squirrel, rain, snow, sunshine, passing cars, the mailman, or any other blessed thing that passes by our house. But please, please stop yowling like there's a tiger on the front porch at 3 a.m. every time a leaf blows by in the wind.

Hairballs are unappealing enough. Hocking them up right where my bare feet hit first thing in the morning is an unappreciated kitty practical joke.

We have a queen size bed. That's more than enough room for two adults. You have numerous kitty beds, comfy chairs and sofas to sleep on. Leaping on to the middle of the bed and sprawling out on your back is kitty sarcasm. And stop stealing the dogs' beds. It makes you look smug, and the dogs look silly using your kitty bed as a pillow.

I look forward to many more years of your loving companionship and I'm sure there will be many more catnip mice drowned in the water dish. Love,
Your Mom

They'll be there calling me "Baby"...

1. HI! My name is Vixon, and I live with the nice lady who writes this bloggie. She said since I’m staying here, I could write to you all too! I have lots of adventures, and I do lots of stuff everyday! Fommy says I should tell you about myself.

   Well, let’s see … I’m a yellow Lab, and I’m almost 11 whole months old! I like walks and people and other dogs and cats and trees and squeaky toys and playing fetch and running around the yard and sitting on Fommy’s lap when she gets in the floor with us and wrestling! I LOVE wrestling! I had my hoohaectomy about three weeks ago, and I had a ‘llergic reaction to the dissolving stitches on the inside, but I’m much better now. You’d hardly even know that I was ever sick!

   Bob the cat lives outside, and I like him a lot. These cats inside aren’t very nice to me. They say I’m just a foster, and I don’t really live here. They also tell me Fommy doesn’t really love me, which is why I can’t stay and can’t call her “Mommy” like George and Sadie do. But Flex, who used to live here with me, explained it all.

   See, I used to live in this backyard with these people who loved me, but didn’t really take care of me. I had a brother, and we got awfully bored being in the yard all the time. So, one day we got out of the fence, just to go exploring. But bad things happen on the other side of the fence. My brother ate something bad, and he got real sick. And I got burned on the side by something real hot. Fommy thinks it was a “tailpipe,” whatever that is. When we finally got back to our yard, my brother was so sick, he died. The people there were afraid something else bad would happen to me, so they gave me to the nice people at Lab Rescue Oklahoma. I lived at a vet’s office for a while, and only got to get out on the weekends when Lab Rescue had “events.” That’s where I met Flex! He became my bestest friend one day!

   When the event was over, a nice man took me back to the vet’s office. Fommy and G )(who lives here with us, and can throw a ball real far!) didn’t know I had to live at the vet’s office. When they found out, they called and wanted to come get me. But, the vet was closed, so they came the very next day. I got to go in the car! And when we got to the house, my friend Flex was there!

   He explained that Fommy and G are called a “foster family.” They let Labbies who don’t have furever homes live with them, while they look for their families. (Fommy = foster + mommy) George and Sadie found their furever home here with Fommy and G, but my furever home will be somewhere else. Flex’s home was with a nice man who has three daughters and another Labbie. And Pepper, who came to live here after Flex went home, is going to a nice couple who have a Labbie who’s very sad. Her best friend died, and she doesn’t know what to do. So, Pepper is going to be her friend!

   Sometimes I think about what I’d like my family to be like. I’d like a big yard, so I can run around a lot. I’d like someone who will play fetch with me every day, and likes to chase me when I play keep-away. I’d like to go on car rides, and for walks. Fommy said I would be a good companion for someone who is a runner. I like running! Fommy helped me write a song about my family, and maybe they’ll read it, and know it’s them and come get me!

   *Maybe*
   (Blatantly plagiarized from “Annie”)

   Maybe far away
   Or maybe real nearby
   He may be surfing the Internet
   She may be on a bike ride!
   Maybe in a house
   On a tree-lined street
   She's sitting waiting to pet me,
   He's got a handful of treats!
   

   They’ll love that I’m active
   They’ll think that I’m smart
   They won’t yell if I sniff things
   Like ashtrays, and art!
   Betcha they're good --
   (Why shouldn't they be?)
   Their one mistake
   Is not picking up me!
   

   So maybe now it's time,
   And maybe when I wake
   They'll be there calling me "Baby"...
   Maybe.
   

   Betcha he jogs
   Betcha she bikes
   Maybe they’ve got me
   A bunch of toys that I like!
   Maybe they're strict
   As straight as a line...
   Don't really care
   As long as they're mine!
   

   So maybe now this prayer's
   The last one of it's kind...
   Won't you please come get your "Baby"
   Maybe.