Tuesday, May 15, 2018

She's trying to kill me!

I have not kept in touch lately with you all and though cats never apologize ––it is not in the rule book –– I have missed you all, and i feel badly about the entire situation.  Judy has not been her entertaining self these past six months and, well, to be honest, I’m just going to put it out there. 
She has been treating me badly. I know! I can’t believe it either.
 I don’t like to post my dirty cat litter here for the world to see, but Judy really has gotten out of control. I’m resorting to you my readers, blog followers and Facebook friends to help me out.
Like I said, I am a good cat. Judy loves me. At least she used to. So, why do I feel like she’s trying to kill me?

I first suspected she had this inclination after I spent TWO HOURS crouched on the counter next to the kitchen faucet, staring at her.  She looked right at me.  She knew I was staring at her. She knew what I wanted……well, I am almost sure she did. Sometimes people are so clueless. I hate to include her in that category.  But still….
 She tried to disguise her dark intentions by showing me my water bowl. “Here, Sportster. Here's your water.” Her voice was high, sweet sounding, like she really cared that I was thirsty. Meowing, I turned away and rubbed up against the faucet and proceeded to suck the few drops clinging at the end of the faucet.

She pushed me away from the faucet and shoved me over to my water bowl. Stinking  her finger in the water bowl, she splashed the stale water into my face, trying to get me to look.  “Right here Sportster. Take a drink.”

She knows I never drink from the bowl.  What does she take me for?  She’s way too eager for me to drink that water. You know what I mean?

I wracked my brain. This all had started two days ago, when she didn’t wake up after the alarm went off, so I sat on her head. She yelled at me. I chirped, my way of saying, “I’m sorry.”

Maybe she wants to do me in, because I want to go for longer walks. I pester her too much, these days.I never let up, I meow and meow. I pace like a caged lion.  She used to be so good about all these things, getting up on time and tending to all my whims. But now, something’s wrong.
Sometimes she had even swung at me with that stick she carried with her everywhere, telling me to move out of the way of her and the stick. 
If I gave her my sad face, she said, “It will all be better,” she says,” when this is all over.  I will take you on your long walks again, I promise.”  At times her sad voice cried out in pain. I didn’t know what was wrong with her.
I began to seek out other places for water. I padded into the bathroom after she exited. Putting my paws up on the toilet seat, I peered into the bowl.
 She shouted at me. “Oh no you don’t! Scoot right on out of there.” She closed the toilet lid. 

When she took a shower that night I beat my paws against the shower curtain trying to get past the barrier in order to reach the enticing running water. She shouted at me then, too. “You’re going to tear up the curtain!” But I didn’t stop.  Now she keeps the bathroom door closed.

I went three days without water –– except the few sips I sneaked during the night from my bowl while Judy slept.  I was dry as a lizard on top of a hot rock in the Arizona sun.
 On the third day I sat in front of my water bowl, staring at the water. It was beginning to look pretty good.   

Talking on the phone with her girlfriend, Judy watched me.  She laughed while she related my efforts to her friend about how i try to get a drink of water. I wanted to scratch her eyes out.  I pushed her coffee mug off the counter and it clattered to the floor. Darn! It didn't even break.

I couldn’t believe she was trying to kill me and laughing about it, too!

I think this entire situation has something to do with that stick she carries around. She changed after she began taking the thing everywhere with her. 
Something’s not right with her.  Lately, she seems sad, even though now she was laughing.
“He makes me feel so sorry for him," she was saying to her friend. " Poor baby, but I can’t give in.”   
I rubbed  my shoulder up against Judy and she petted me as she talked.
Did you hear what she said? She’s never going to give in to my demands. My throat is so dry I can’t meow anymore. What am I going to do? I am going to die.  I never thought I would go out this way.

She continued on with her phone conversation.
 “The Dr. says he doesn’t want me doing the steps in the motorhome right after my surgery. My rig is parked on the street in front of the house but still, I can’t expect my daughter to come out several times a day for the next four to six weeks, just to turn on the water so he can drink from the faucet. He’s got to learn to drink from his water bowl. That’s all there is to it.”
 Where was she going?  I can’t drink form the faucet AND she’s going to leave me?

Please check out my first book, ACTIVATE LION MODE, book one in The Feline Fury Series. Help me to carry the life saving message of this powerful book. 

Besides, my treats are running low.

Book One of the Feline Fury Series

Click on link  for 


  1. Sportster, just "borrow" her credit card and set up a pet sitter for yourself. You won't last 4 to 6 weeks without a drink, and I'm positive (maybe, sorta, kinda) that she has poisoned your water dish (or not). Good luck.