Dear Cat

Dear Cat,

Thank you for holding down the floor/couch/chair. I was worried it might go somewhere while I was at work.

There is obviously a clean weenie contest I'm unaware of. I'm sure every human in the house is aware of it too. And I can assure you that no human is going to be judging this contest for which you are a contender, so please stop doing it during dinner time or when I have a houseful of guests. They're called privates for a reason.

Some people think that waking up to a cat on their face means their kitty loves them. I know you're wiping your ass on my hair. So don't go there.

I appreciate your letting me know when you're low on food or water or if the litter box is not up to your standards. When I'm sitting down in the bathroom with my pants around my ankles means you will need to wait a while. Likewise, when you've shredded the toilet paper into confetti means you have to wait longer for your demand request. I don't interrupt you when you're in your litter box, leave me alone in mine.

It is physically not possible for you to eat your food portions plus the other cat's. This means you will yak. There's a ton of tile in this house, please yak there. Yakking on carpet or furniture means hauling out loud machinery that scares you.

I'd appreciate if you'd pick a fight with the other cats or the dog, anything that makes fur fly, before I've used the vacuum.

The two minutes twice a year I spend shaving your butt is not murder in progress. Chasing you around the house because you're trying to outrun the turd stuck in your hair then having to shampoo it out, rinse and dry is less fun as you've made obvious. Deal with the few minutes out of your year. You're the only cat in the neighborhood with a Brazilian. Brag about it to your kitty friends.

Leaving an unburied turd in the litter box as a symbol of your victory in the latest cat fight is not cool to anyone with a sense of smell. Find a new way to celebrate.

Point your butt toward the sand in the box, not toward the floor.

Love, Mom