Post 630: Andy accuses Doug of indolence. What does he know?

Yeah, January 1st’s coming up, fast! Andy knows of Tom and Doug’s plan to post a blog about blogs they both enjoy, one for each of the von Kapherr cats. (We’re talking 23 now!)

Andy’s watched Doug closely since Tom made the proposal, and he knows Doug: How many times has he failed to keep up with the litter box “accumulations”, and poor Andy had to step delicately around “it”? Even one time was too much! Doug’s a regular lazybones!

"Have you begun work on the blog on blogs yet? Time's running out!"

“Have you begun work on the blog on blogs yet? Time’s running out!”

Andy is a cruel taskmaster when he sets his mind to it. Of the two brothers, he’s the serious one. Dougy (not to be confused with Doug, who’s the human) is the goofy one, ready to play in a second. Yeah, when Doug named the boys, he really got it right: Andy after the apostle and saint Andrew; Dougy after himself, the world’s biggest (and fattest!) procrastinator!

"Why do I have to ride you like a horse to get the simple things done? Why!?"

“Why do I have to ride you like a horse to get the simple things done? Why!?” Andy demands an answer.

Doug clenched his teeth and thought dangerously, “If I had to do it again, I’d name that dang Andy after Marcel Marceau. Maybe then he’d keep his mouth shut!” 

“OK, Andy, I’ll get right on it,” Doug said in a meek tone of compliance. Andy doesn’t say much, but when he speaks, he has the “Deadly Claws of Instant Compliance, NOW!” to back him up. Better safe than sorry!

Doug got right to work on the blog on blogs. Andy is watching and he’s not amused.

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Post 272: simple pleasures

My cat Andy is, if anything, a terror when he takes something on. Watch as he vanquishes mere strips of paper, licking the first one, then killing the second one dead!

balls for the Speaker

A low front moved in yesterday. My late mother, who was an elementary school teacher, noted she always knew when the weather was about to change because her kids acted up more than usual. Apparently it works using cats as your weather predictors, too:

That isn’t to say the boys were bad all day. At one point they came to me for “a little chat”. (“Un petite chat” ~ Hee! Hee! That’s a pun!)

“What’s the matter, boys. You seem upset, on edge?” I asked.

“It’s that speaker fellow. The television keeps saying he’s a nice person, but he needs some balls,” said Andy, his fuzzy little Persian face scrunched into a scowl, his whiskers cutely framing his smoochy little mouth.

John Boehner. Yeah, he does look like a nice guy!

John Boehner. Yeah, he does look like a nice guy!

“It hurts,” piped in Dougy. “We know what it’s like to need your balls and they are gone.”

The boys are empathetic, a characteristic of black Persian cats. I mean, there are people who don’t like blacks. There are people whose eyes bulge in rage once they realize “Persian” and “Eye-ranian” are the same. There are people who are allergic to cats. Then there are people who are superstitious about black cats. And there are people who want to send a few B1s and B2s across the ocean to wipe out those Persian “cats”. I’m unaware of any issues with black Persians…!

“Jeez, Andy and Dougy!” I said. “I thought you were just acting up! So you were trying to find your balls, eh?!”

“Oh yeah!” they exclaimed. “We have lots of balls we’ve lost over the months. You know the ones we really, really like, the ones our auntie gave us, that we bop ahead of us chasing them through the house like we’re playing soccer, the ones we keep losing under chairs and sofas till you find them and give them back to us…!”

The boys, by this time, were hopping up and down in excitement! Oh yes, I know exactly the balls they mean:

Wow! It even has a little bell inside! No wonder the boys love, love, love their auntie! It's a favorite toy!

Wow! It even has a little bell inside! No wonder the boys love, love, love their auntie! It’s a favorite toy!

“Well, you have several of these balls, in different colors. Are you willing to give the speaker as many as two? This is an important question because he’s playing with a whole lot of people, and he needs lots of balls if they are all going to play along with him…!”

I was a bit concerned. The boys made this incredibly thoughtful gesture, but these are a favorite toy, not to mention a gift from a much beloved auntie.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” the boys exclaimed, jumping up and down, thrashing their tails with increasing excitement and commitment to the mission to share their favorite balls with the speaker. “We don’t need to share any with that other guy, though. He seems to have lots of balls to play with.”

The cat brothers correctly guessed why this fellow's smiling: he has plenty of balls to play with, providing he doesn't lose them under chairs and sofas....

The cat brothers correctly guessed why this fellow’s smiling: he has plenty of balls to play with, providing he doesn’t lose them under chairs and sofas….

“I like the idea a lot, boys. I have plenty of postage and you have plenty of balls. Let’s send those balls to Washington today, before the blizzard hits!”

“Mrow!” purred the boys. They may be black Persian cats, but they are patriotic native born black Persian cats, no matter what Donald Trump says.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Here’s where you send your gift of balls to the House Speaker Boehner:

The Honorable John A. Boehner
United States House of Representatives
1011 Longworth House Office Building
Washington, D.C. 20515-3508

Andy, Dougy, and I thank you!